Fondness & Other Indecencies
by IrishSwan
Summary: Emma Swan was once a hater of fluff. Until fluff happened to her.


**Prompt by _thecaptainswan_ : It's about Emma Swan hating clichés (you know surprises, flowers, chocolates and movie dates and the like) but Killian Jones came a long and did the clichés to her/ with her and she realize that she hates it bc no one ever bothered doing that kind of stuff to her & how clichés are clichés for a reason**

 ***Takes place during the six weeks of peace in season 4***

 **Thank you to the amazing _So Much Tea_ for looking this over for me! And thank you to _thecaptainswan_ for sending in this prompt!**

 **Disclaimer: Characters not mine!**

Emma Swan grew up cringing at couples holding hands and making eyes at each other. Gagging at the sight of flower bouquets and heart-shaped boxes of chocolate. Recoiling at the mention of Ferris wheels and carnival winnings. Even the thought of true love and happily ever afters had her dry heaving into a bucket.

She remembered Neal trying a thing or two of the sort back in the day. While she found it pleasant at the time, him leaving her the way he did tainted every word, every action with malevolent insincerity.

So Emma Swan concluded that the lovey-dovey clichés were not for her. It just wasn't her style. Nothing about it sounded appealing.

Then enters Killian Jones. Dirty, no good pirate who she can't seem to get enough of. She's starting to fall in love with him, and she really wishes her heart would just stop with the nonsense.

It started with that damn beanstalk. She felt… _things._ Things she banned herself from feeling a long, long time ago. Then he held her when she saved him from the giant's trap and her heart fluttered.

"Next time don't stand on ceremony, love." she repeated in her head in a childish imitation of his voice.

 _Ugh._

Then he came back to help save her son from the clutches of Pan. She called it appreciation. Poking a hole in the coconut for her to drink from. Fondness. That kiss. That damned kiss turned it into admiration.

Then when they came back and were trying to defeat Zelena and he held the small of her back that one time. The way their bond grew stronger and jokes got funnier. Rooms seemed brighter and life became a little bit easier, despite all the chaos surrounding them. That was infatuation.

But none of that seemed to really go against any of her beliefs. She chalked it up to child-like crushes she'd missed out on in her youth, and men too good looking for their own good.

Attraction she could deal with. Devotion, on the other hand, was a bit of a hard pill to swallow.

It started with that fateful day she was trapped in that ice cave with Elsa. Killian held her so close, literally and metaphorically swept her feet off the ground to keep her safe. To remind himself she was alive and well.

Emma Swan was not one to be swept off her feet. Emma Swan was too strong for that. Too independent for that. But here was Killian Jones, oh so slowly exposing the Emma she wanted to be; not the Emma she had to be.

It truly dawned on her during their first date. How, with one single red rose, flowers didn't seem so gag-worthy anymore. Then later, when he nearly chewed out Scarlet for interrupting their date. That was hot. _Incredibly_ arousing.

But Emma was never one to appreciate uncalled for protectiveness. Not from men at least. Yet here she was, making eyes at him the way she once would've endlessly mocked whichever lovesick stupid girl she would find gazing at a man that way.

Then there was their date today; a picnic at the damn park.

 _Really?_

When would he understand this wasn't her? Emma Swan didn't too fluffy, romantic dates at the park. But she didn't have the heart to turn him down. He just looked so earnest and so proud of himself; she decided it'd be okay - Just this once.

 _You love it._

A voice inside her head spoke.

 _You love all his attention. It's okay to love his attention._

"Oh, shut it." She mumbled to herself as she finished getting dressed.

She decided to keep her standard blue jeans, but opted for a white flowy top instead. She didn't need her leather jacket at the park; Storybrooke's been villain-free for the past few weeks, and it's not like killian warranted all that armor. Not that much, not anymore.

It didn't take her long to get to the park, yet when she did, Killian was nowhere in sight. She checked her watch; she was right on time, down to the minute. But Killian was always at least fifteen minutes early, claimed it was " _good form, Swan. I may be a pirate, but I am always a gentleman."_

He was never late.

 _This isn't like him._

The voice spoke again. However before she could go into the downwards spiral of what if's and maybe's, she felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her abdomen. A lean, strong chest anchoring her into the safety of the embrace.

"Afternoon, love." Killian whispered in her ear then kissed the freckle that hid right behind it.

"You scared the hell out of me, you jerk." She said as she playfully smacked his arm.

"My sincerest apologies, Princess. However can I make it up to you?"

Instead of verbally responding, Emma turned in his arms and planted a soft kiss to his lips.

"Mmm, hey." Emma whispered.

"Hello," Killian nudged his nose against hers. "C'mon, love. Your royal banquet awaits." He continued and began to guide her to guide her by the small of her back.

"Royal banquet?" Emma gave him a sideways glance in skepticism.

"Merely an embellishment on my part. I assure you, love. Just me and you on this patch of dirt we call home."

"Cute," Emma drawled as she rolled her eyes.

His face morphed into a mixture amusement and self-doubt. So to ease his worries, she lifted his arm so it lay across her shoulder and snuggled closer into his side. The cheeky smirk on his face almost made her regret it, though. Almost.

They walked until she noticed a patch of red amidst the green that blanketed the space. They were in a secluded area of the park – well, as secluded as Storybrooke had to offer – shielded from peering eyes by the trees, but still offered a marvelous, calming view of the pond.

 _Wow._

"What's that, darling?"

 _Did I say that out loud?_

"Yes. Yes you did." Killian chortled and kissed her temple.

Their food was nothing fancy, which kind of made it even more special. It was just her usual grilled cheese and onion rings from Granny's, but his thoughtfulness astounded her. Maybe he did know this wasn't her thing? Maybe this was his way of compromising.

"I think it's about time I try one of these cheese sandwiches. I hear they're _all the rage_ at Granny's."

"Twenty-first century man, indeed. And I'm pretty sure I'm the only one in this town who can't get enough of this particular meal." They both laughed at that.

"Well then it's bloody magnificent that yours is the only opinion that matters to me."

"Well played, Captain," she praised. Though she couldn't help but look away at the wink he gave her in return.

Their meal was pleasant. The silence between bites filled with soft laughs and nonsensical chatter. It was kind of perfect. After all the years spent fighting, it was a nice reprieve to absorb the peace life had to offer.

She was just about to start putting the plates away, when Killian stopped her.

"Ah ah ah," he tutted. "Firstly, you will not lift a finger today -" He saw her about to protest so continued quickly, "-shush. Just enjoy it, Swan." He watched Emma sit back with a faux huff. Instead of taking the bait, he just methodically replaced all their things back in the picnic basket.

"Secondly?" Emma broke the silence.

"Pardon?"

"Well, you said _firstly_ , which implies a _secondly_ and even possibly a _thirdly._ I thought you were a master of the English language," she teased.

"Ha-bloody-ha. I was getting to that, you little minx." But instead of answering her question, he reached over and grabbed her by her leg, making her squeal. He pulled until she was lying flat on her back beside him. He looked her right in the eyes, amusement shining in his wide blue eyes.

"You squealed." His smile grew even wider.

"I don't squeal." She tried to cross her arms over her chest in indignation, but he was faster. He laced their fingers together, and rested his weight on his elbow so he was slightly, but not quite hovering above her.

"Emma Swan just squealed." This time Emma shared in his laugher.

He leaned down to trail chaste kisses up her neck. Across her jaw. On her nose. He moved lower, inching his mouth towards hers. Just as she started to tilt her jaw to meet his lips, he sat up and reached for the basket again.

"Secondly-" he stopped to chuckle at the look of betrayal on her face. "Everything alright, love?" he asked as innocently as he could manage.

"I hate you," she stated then smacked his chest.

"Well, I happen to fancy you quite a bit. So tough luck, savior."

Emma proceeded to then stick her tongue out at him, like a little kid.

Keeping his eyes on her, he reached his hand into the basket and pull out one perfectly coated chocolate-covered strawberry. He scooted closer towards her and placed the tip of the strawberry at her mouth.

"Forgive me?" he pouted.

Emma reached to take the strawberry from him, but Killian quickly pulled it out of reach.

"I am perfectly capable of feeding myself, you know."

"Just because you can, doesn't mean you have to all the time. Let me do this for you, love."

Emma relented and opened her mouth. Killian brought the chocolaty dessert back towards her and watched as she took a tentative bite. One bite quickly turned to two, then three, each punctuated by a moan surely too obscene for such a public setting. But sod it, who was he to stop her.

He turned back to retrieve another strawberry, but was halted by weight settling onto his lap. Emma had taken it upon herself to lounge atop of him; her long legs draped across his, while his arm supported her back and her head rested on his collarbone.

She reached forward and pulled the basket towards her, making it easy for her to grab a strawberry.

"Your turn," she smiled as she held it out for him to take a bite.

And so their date went on; each of them taking turns feeding the other. Some bites punctuated with messy kisses and wandering hands, others by soft giggles and yearning looks.

That wasn't the end of it though. Once finished with the meal, the packed up and strolled around the park hand in hand. They even fed some ducks and curled up against each other on the grass, like two teenagers finally finding some time alone. They couldn't keep their hands off each other either; their touches ranged from chaste and soft, to heated and determined. Their kisses the same.

It was completely unlike her. Complete out of character. But Emma hasn't felt this happy in a long time.

She couldn't even recognize her own thoughts.

 _Best date ever._

 _Most loving man out there._

 _Mine._

 _How did I get so lucky?_

It was with that last thought that Emma came to a realization. It was never the clichés that made her cringe and gag. Never the people who openly displayed their love. It was always her. Her and her belief that she wasn't worthy of such treatment. Her and her belief that no one would ever _want_ to do all those things with her. _For_ her.

Yet here is Killian Jones. Reminding her slowly and daily how beautiful and amazing she is. It's not that she ever needs confirmation from any man, but it does feel astonishing to finally understand that clichés are clichés for a reason.

A reason she is now a part of.


End file.
